Who Am I?
by The Secret Enigma
Summary: A mature take on the Hero of Brightwall's personal journey and relationship with Elliot: contains some horror elements. Princess/Elliot. Rated M; warnings at start of chapters.
1. Beginnings

**Hi to all readers! This story starts out slow, but will speed up as it goes along. **

**Disclaimer: The Fable franchise, and all characters, locations, etc. belong to Lionshead Inc. and Microsoft. This story is written purely for fun, and I am not earning anything for it.**

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: NONE**

**Author's Note: The story will be told from various points - of - view. The character POV is indicated at the start of that character's narration.**

CHAPTER 1

BEGINNINGS

_**Marion**_

The darkness in my life began the day my mother was crowned Queen. Her coronation was a culmination of a long, violent, and somewhat muddled tale that is better left alone in these pages. I didn't realise this at the time, and was just overjoyed that my beloved Mum finally got the recognition I always felt she deserved. 'As if I didn't get enough,' she would have scoffed if she'd read this, but there you go. We already owned Fairfax Castle, after all. Long before we became Albion's royal family, we ended up living at the castle through the autumns and winters, and returning to our beloved Serenity Farm in Oakfield in the warmer months.

In spite of my childish desire to be a princess, born completely from the romance and glamour of the idea rather than any material benefits it provided, I preferred Serenity Farm to the castle. My young mind didn't grasp how much my Mother's new title would change things. Strangely enough, Logan, (my brother and senior by four years,) who preferred the splendour of the castle to the other-worldy simplicity of the farm, was not nearly as excited as I was when he learned he was to become a prince. I suspect his less naive outlook told him that things were going to change forever.

The first few months were uncomfortable, if not actually unhappy. As long as I had my family, I wasn't miserable, but I missed Serenity Farm, and found that being confined to the castle grounds for fear of assassination was a bore. I couldn't truly understand what Mum told me, about the ruthlessness of evil men and the coin they're willing to pay to make their dark desires a reality, for I had known little fear in my life, (excepting a memorable occasion where I decided to be a hero like Mum, and ended up in a cage surrounded by hobbes.) However, I found a new lease on life when I met my best friend of years to come.

It was a warm, drowsy Sunday afternoon. Mum and Dad were in Bowerstone, and Logan was playing with his own friends for a change, leaving me at a loose end. I recall I was leaning on the balustrade bordering the royal gardens of the castle (which had appropriately been renamed Bowerstone Castle, having passed out of the Fairfax line). I was gazing out to sea; I have always adored the sea, like my mother, and was missing the proximity formerly enjoyed in Oakfield. My reverie was broken by a raucous youth some years my senior, Percy by name, who belonged to a noble couple, was new in town, and felt the urge to pester me whenever he got the opportunity. 'Hello, Your Highness,' he'd blustered, leaning on the balustrade to my right, 'You look lovely today, like a butterfly or a flower or a, eh, well, pretty thing.' Beefy and red – faced, with bushy ginger hair, he irritated me to my wits end.

'Percy,' I began, catching myself when I remembered I was now a princess. 'Thank you,' beginning again, 'but please don't talk to me now. I'm thinking.'

'What are you thinking about?' Percy asked, leaning in closer.

'None of your business,' testily.

A brief silence, before he parried: 'I like you, you know.'

I snorted. I wanted to say, in my youthful indignation, that of course he liked me. All the boys did, even though they called me 'scrawny' and 'ugly' behind my back: my Mum was rich, AND the Queen, AND I was a Princes and lived in a palace. Lots of boys (and men, I might add), especially the particular brand of snooty, work – shy noble Percy was, are always anxious to make good matches.I refrained, however, as I heard my Mother's voice in my head: 'You're a princess now, Marion. You have to behave even better than most nice people, because everyone's going to look up to you as an example.' So all I said to the lad was, 'Thank you, Percy, but I still want to be alone right now.'

'I think I'm in love with you,' he persisted.

'I'm not in love with you,' I retorted, adding 'sorry,' as what I hoped was a courteous afterthought.

'Prove it,' Percy demanded, leaning in _far_ too close for my liking, 'Kiss me, and if you really don't like it, then I'll know you're not lying and I'll leave you alone.'

Well, I was never a child to put up with other people's impudence. I resisted, and Percy persisted, and as I was hardly in danger, the guards were not stirred to come to my aid. I did, however, whack the young wooer in the eye in my attempts to break free. He was persistent, however, and my younger self had decided I could forget decorum for once and tackle him properly when another boy hoisted Percy off me.

'Excuse me,' the newcomer said, to my juvenile astonishment, 'but you mustn't do that. You have insulted this maiden's honour.' His words sounded very romantic to me then, as I was an incorrigible tomboy unused to valiant gestures. Now, when I think of that pudgy, brown - eyed child saying such an archaic phrase, all I can do is smile. He didn't impress Percy, evidently; two seconds later and Percy had stalked away, and the young brunette who had come to the aid of my 'honour' had a split lip.

His name was Elliot, and I dabbed his wound with my handkerchief, before shoving him into the kitchen to get it doused in salt water, after which we feasted on cake and tea. From that day forward, we were firm friends. Whenever I was lonely of a weekend, he was there to play: we enacted everything from castle sieges to tea parties, and he was also happy just to stand and watch the sea with me. Although a noble, he was of that kind which is very much middle class in their manner, and was, I'm afraid, somewhat of a loner among other boys. In his teens, he outgrew his awkwardness, took up sparring and maksmanship, and volunteered for charities, besides which he achieved a high level of education. I also outgrew my ungainliness, and began to look more like my mother. As we grew up together, and Logan began to grow apart from me, Elliot became a surrogate brother, and was the perfect gentleman escort to royal events. In addition, in my teens, when I, like my brother, was permitted to leave the castle grounds – albeit in the company of either Mum, Dad, or a bodyguard – Elliot and I had wonderful times in Bowerstone Market, a place I have always loved for so many reasons. Fortunately, his well – bred manners inpressed my parents, or I have no doubt I would not have seen nearly so much of him.

Elliot helped me to ease into our new life when I was a child, and I remember him as being a great comfort when my father, Bob, died in his natural time. However, before we get to the obvious and inevitable conclusion that we ended up married, he had to survive, as much as I myself, the most horrendous chapters of my life. Indeed, I believe he was, in a measure, the reason I survived the first ordeal intact. The darkness had threatened since the coronation, (possibly, I think, beforehand,) but only descended on the night of my Mother's death.


	2. Requiem

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: CHARACTER DEATH, MINOR SUGGESTIVE THEMES, MATURE THEMES. **

CHAPTER 2

REQUIEM

_**Marion**_

I had visited Mum for a long while that afternoon. She'd been sick for four weeks, and it frightened me. I was not used to Mum being sick. In my experience, she was constantly coming home with brutal wounds that she was more inclined to laugh about than anything else. Indeed, I honestly don't think she was ever ill before that time. Doctor Millls was living at Bowerstone Castle to care for her, and reassured me at each visit that recovery would come eventually. I left her room deperessed, Collie dog Bob dejectedly loping beside me. (A present for my recent sixteenth birthday, I'd named him Bob, after my late Dad). Dusk was enveloping the castle, and I walked out the back door, wandering through the gloaming garden, before turning on my heels and heading towards my bedchamber: I was too depressed to eat dinner. I felt that even the presence of the jovial Walter Beck, who was Mum's best friend and staying at the castle, wouldn't cheer me, or lift the foreboding shadow from my heart. Logan would be there, but lately, he'd been distant and cold to me, treating me like he'd grown up but I'd remained a child. I was lonely, true, but felt too subdued to be in company.

As I walked through the courtyard, I heard the crunch of gravel behind me, and a warm hand patted my shoulder. 'Hello, Marion,' a familiar, gentle voice said. I turned, and beheld Elliot: in the years since childhood, he'd developed into an attractive young man, with handsome, regular features, thoughtful, intelligent dark eyes, and velvety brown hair. His new – found athleticism, while not overt, had toned his once pudgy frame into a lean, fit appearance. 'Hello, Elliot,' I replied, wrapping him in a friendly hug. Having his warm arms around me made me feel better for a moment. Bob was happy, as always, to see Elliot, and jumped on his hind legs, nearly knocking Elliot to the ground, as he lavished affection on my friend.

When Bob had had his fill of attention, Elliot examined me searchingly. 'Is Her Majesty worse?'

'Yes,' I replied, sighing. 'I was actually just going to my room. I don't feel like dinner.' Elliot squeeed my hand soothingly, and said coaxingly, 'Are you sure? I was invited by Walter, and it'd me lonely without you. You don't have to eat, just don't go and be alone in the dark.'

'The candles will be lit,' I pointed out evasively, sliding my hand out of his, 'and I really don't want to see Logan right now.'

Elliot smiled, 'That I understand. Oh well, I guess I'll have to use Walter as an antidote for Logan's moroseness. Are you sure I can't bring you something? Maybe get Jasper to send up some pudding?'

'No, it's fine,' I replied, 'but thanks. I'm not sure that Walter's all that cheerful either, though.'

'Oh dear,' Elliot grinned, 'I may have to risk Logan's displeasure with my bad jokes again.'

I managed a wan smile, and hugged him tightly again. He stroked my hair, and murmured, 'It'll be OK, Marion,' then he released me, bowed, grinned cheekily and intoned 'your highness.' After kissing my hand with equal cheek, he left for the dining room.

The moon was rising as I crossed the stone terrace. The giant stained glass window depicting the royal coat of arms was illuminated by the chandeliers in the throne room, which were permenantly lit, and required enormous upkeep by the staff: candles always needed replacing or trimming. Although winter was imminent, it was humid in spite of the cold wind, suggesting rain, or more likely, a storm.

I sighed again, and pushed open the door to my chambers, which were decorated in dark oak and purple. I was very fond of my room. Not long after Mum became Queen, the castle was renovated. Logan had his rooms done in red and mahogany. I loved my room, and it was always one of the things about being a Princess I liked the most: large, comfortable, and luxurious, I enjoyed my solitary hours there, reading, writing, playing music on the piano or lute, and contesting my various friends and relatives at chess. (Obviously, as we got older, Elliot could only play chess with me there if Jasper, a guard, or a relative was present.) In addition to redecorating, Mum had the high tower closed off; the tower where Aunty Rose died.

I tossed my clothes aside, leaving them for my lady in waiting, Jane, to wash. I wriggled hastily into my nightclothes, bypassing the hated slippers and nightcap that Jane insisted all ladies of good breeding should wear. Before getting into bed, I blew out all the candles, and drew my red damask curtains tightly. I curled up on my side, and listened, in the humid darkness, as rain began to tap on the windows. Soon, the shower became a downpour, and the humidity was replaced by the chill of winter storms. I lay awake for a long time, although I had no idea how long. Eventually, my anxiety was llulled by the sounds of wind and storm, and I dozed.

I woke with a jolt, heart racing, panicking blindly. There was no reason for it, but somehow, I knew that something had happened to Mum. In later years, as my ability to see the future strengthened, I realised that this was the beginning of my intuitive ability, but at the time, all I knew was I needed to see Mum. I bolted out of bed, and ran blindly through the gale, into the castle, and up the stairs to the main bedchamber. My heart almost stopped when I saw the guards barring the door. I stood before them, soaking wet and wild, and demanded, 'let me past!'

'Your Highness,' one of them protested, 'Sir Walter ordered that nobody be let through.'

'I'm the Princess! My commands are more your concern than his!' Reluctantly, the guards let me through, and I beheld Jasper and Doctor Mills standing at the bedside.

Mum was in bed, as usual, and I bolted to her, and threw my arms around her neck. Then I realised that she wasn't breathing. I screamed. I don't remember much, but I know I didn't behave the way a hero Princess should. I loved my mother more than any other living being, including my father, and somehow, I sensed that there was something sinister in the death. This suspicion was confirmed at a later time, but everyone wondered how I knew then, when even Logan did not; only Walter and the doctor had known. I vaguely remember sobbing wildly and refusing to be separated from her body. Jasper was at loss, and I refused to take any of the draughts that Doctor Mills offered to soothe me. When Walter arrived with Logan, (having left the room specifically to fetch us both), he was relived to see that I was safe, as I had left my chamber open to the elements, but grieved to see my inevitable sorrow. 'Who killed her?' I sobbed, when Walter entered. He gave no answer. I remember Logan rebuking me for my lack of decorum, but I hardly noticed through my tears. I was eventually persuaded to sit beside the bed, and I cried until there was bereft of emotion.

Those were dark days for Albion. I believe that no person has ever been so widely loved as Mum was, and the funeral was an occasion almost as lavish as her coronation had been, as the citizens of her country honoured her selfless life. Logan was crowned king, being the eldest, and I found myself alone, as it seemed: Logan called me 'childish', and kept me at arms-length, and Walter, although comforting, was distant for a time, as he advised Logan in his new role. Once again, one of my greatest sources of comfort was Elliot.


	3. Machinations

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: MATURE THEMES, DEPICTIONS OF MENTAL ILLNESS, MINOR HORROR THEMES**

CHAPTER 3

MACHINATIONS

_**Marion**_

The first weeks following Mum's death were like a waking nightmare. At first, I either cried all the time, or was just an automaton, and didn't think or feel much. This was fortunate, however, as the latter mood prevailed whenever I had to perform my duties as Princess of Albion. I made a heartfelt speech at the funeral, attended Logan's coronation, and went to the soiree held to celebrate the erection of his statue in the back courtyard. For unknown reasons, he insisted that he not be portrayed wearing the crown, in contrast with Mum's statue in the front – courtyard fountain.

I hated that statue of my brother. It felt to me as if he had become like the statue himself; he was hard, cold, and imperious. He wasn't a bad king, though, in those first few weeks. I know his lack of hero powers bothered him, and he was painfully aware that it made the citizens restive. After establishing his order, he departed on a diplomatic voyage he'd planned with Mum, to Aurora, a southern continent, and Walter was named his reagent.

As the weeks before Logan's voyage passed, I was alarmed to find that I was more grieved about Mum's death than before. I suspect that my insecurity, due to Logan's coldness and Walter's abscences, made me more aware of how much I missed her. Bob was a constant comfort, and Elliot was often around; even Jasper was soothing in his own, stuffy way. But I felt so alone. I became withdrawn and shy, staying in my room whenever I could. I slept a great deal, having lost interest in my music and books, and felt constantly tired. Even swordplay and marksmanship with Walter failed to engage me, although I was obliged to continue training. I began performing poorly for my tutor, which, as she pointed out, was not desirable so late in my academic life: Mum had expressed a hope that I would attend the Brightwall Academy, which she had founded, and although I would hardly be denied a place, it was preferable to arrive well prepared. Even my appetite failed me, and I often found my favourite dainties lovingly placed on my bedside table of an evening to entice me. I suspect that Jasper was responsible, although he would never admit it.

Before Logan left for Aurora, he called me into the throne room. He was standing in front of a portrait of Mum, painted late in her life. He turned, frowning. He was gruff: 'A Princess must take care with her appearance, Marion. From now on, Jasper will choose your clothes every day, and you will wash your hair at least three times a week' I suspect I did not look prepossessing; I preferred comfort as a general rule, and I had not taken care with my selection. My emotional distress had also made me remiss with my general appearance, and my hair was greasy. I just nodded, and Logan's frown deepened: 'Show respect to your king, Marion.'

'Sorry, Logan,' I replied, subdued, 'I'll do what you tell me to.'

Logan strode to the throne, and seated himself, sprawling somewhat in the seat. 'While I'm gone, I expect you to behave as befits our mother's daughter. I know you are grieving, but so am I, however cold I may seem to you. I simply cannot allow myself to collapse: I must live up to Mother's legacy. You, too, must make an effort. You're no longer a child, Marion. Grieve however you must, but do not demoralise my citizens by letting them see your sorrow. My ship leaves at dawn. I will see you on my return. Don't disappoint me.'

'Yes, Logan,' I replied, close to tears. 'Goodbye. I hope it goes well.' All I received was a haughty nod. I turned and walked out of the room slowly, and as soon as I had left Logan's sight, I bolted to my room as fast as I could. Once there, I threw myself on the bed, sobbing.

_**Meanwhile, in Aurora …**_

_Blackness. No light. No sight. Only darkness, and shadow. In the void, a voice speaks:_

'_He will not trouble us. He is coming to us himself. We will destroy him, spirit and body. But what of the girl? We do not know which holds the power of their ancestry.'_

_A silence. Then: _

'_We will destroy her where she is. Yes, we will appear as dreams and phantoms, and sap her will. Even if she should live, she will be mad, a lunatic, and no threat to us.'_

**_Thanks for reading! If anyone has any comments or advice on how to improve my writing, please let me know!_**


	4. Nightmares

**Here's the next chapter of the story. I hope you enjoy it! **

CHAPTER 4

NIGHTMARES

_**Elliot**_

I remember the day I went to visit Marion, only to find she hadn't gotten out of bed. It was nearly dinner time, but she was still in her room. When I arrived, Jasper told me, 'Her Highness has been ill since your last visit. I'm afraid we don't know what the matter is. She certainly isn't well, but the symptoms are not particularly recognisable. I suspect it is related to Her Majesty's death, but if it persists, I do not doubt that Sir Walter will be calling the doctor.'

I was troubled. 'May I see her?'

'I don't see why not, if she will see _you_,' Jasper replied. 'I will inquire for you.'

Jasper returned with a favourable answer, and escorted me to Marion's room. I think that Jasper must have insisted that she get up, since she was sitting by the fire, wrapped in blankets. I was surprised to see that she was wearing both nightcap and slippers, since I know she found these accessories so uncomfortable. 'Hello, Marion,' I said, sitting on the chair beside her, 'what's the matter?'

'I don't know,' she replied. She was so forlorn, I just wanted to hug her tightly and never let go, but Jasper was standing at the door, and I doubt he would have approved of that. 'Oh Elliot,' she sighed, 'I thought I'd be OK. I'm still so sad, but I was getting on better. I, well, started to feel _angry_. I _know_ someone killed Mum, and I felt as if they'd win if I let myself go, so I've been trying to pull myself together.'

'You have been more like yourself recently,' I answered, squeezing her delicate, soft hand.

'I _was,_ but I've been sleeping so badly the last few days,' she continued, huddling into the blankets. 'I've been having the most horrific dreams, Elliot. At first, I had a good dream about Mum, which just kept repeating itself, where she sings to me. You know how beautifully she used to sing, and play the lute.'

'Yes, she was amazing,' I smiled fondly.

'Well,' resumed Marion, 'I've been having that one since she died, and I still do, but I've started having others, and they frighten me so much. There's one I've had about Mum's life before I was born. That's not all bad, and a lot of it was very interesting, but I also had to see things like when Lucien shot her when she was a child. There were some good dreams, but the problem is, Mum was always in them, and it seemed wrong. Like the dream where there were all these elves in a beautiful land fighting goblins, and Mum was helping them, or the one in a land made of music, where Mum couldn't sing as well as she should have been able to. The dreams were beautiful, but the way Mum was in them bothers me.

'I also kept seeing her in these lands that don't exist, fighting things like banshees, only much worse, and she was often with elves and dwarves and other mythological creatures. And there were some that make no sense at all, because the things in them were so strange. Those ones might be good if I could understand them properly. They have things about people travelling through the stars, and strange machines and other such things. But I don't even have these dreams anymore. Apart from Mum's song, I have the worst nightmares now. I can't even describe them to you, Elliot. I think they must be like meeting a banshee, they're just so awful. They bring out my worst fears, and make me sad about Mum again, and they make me feel worthless, and like life's not worth living. I wish I could tell you about these nightmares, but they're so horrible, and I can't remember them that well anyway, just how they make me feel.'

'Are they making you too scared to go to sleep?' I asked, concerned.

'Yes,' she replied glumly, 'and even if I do sleep, they come for me anyway. I don't know what to do. I don't think this is because of Mum's death, specifically. I think I'm going mad, Elliot.' She started sobbing, and I took the liberty of putting my arms around her. 'Marion, they're just dreams,' I said soothingly, 'I know they're making you think awful things, but they're not real. You're a wonderful person, and life can be a wonderful thing. Maybe Dr. Mills can give you something to help you sleep.' She just kept crying heavily. I sat with her in my arms for some time, until she drifted off to sleep; I suppose she was exhausted.

I gently got up, taking care not to wake Marion, and left the room with Jasper. As he saw me to the door, he said, 'That's the most Her Highness has divulged to anyone, Sir. It's now possible to address the issue. I am thankful for your interest and compassion.'

'I'm worried about her, Jasper,' I replied, 'If you think I can help. let me know.'

'Of course, Sir.'

**Thanks for reading, and please remember to review! (Suggestions and comments welcome.)**


	5. Frightened

**Hi guys! Here's the new chapter of the story. I hope you enjoy it! Also, thankyou to ElegantArtist21 for the kind reviews.**

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: DEPICTION OF MENTAL ILLNESS, SUICIDE THEMES.**

CHAPTER 5

FRIGHTENED

_**Elliot**_

My parents took me with them for our annual spring holiday the day after I visited Marion. We were gone for two weeks, staying at our manor in the Bower Lake district. When we returned to Bowerstone, I visited Marion again as soon as I could. I'd written to her, of course, but hadn't had a reply. I wasn't too worried, though: Marion's a princess, so I decided she must have been busy. It wasn't the first time she'd not answered a holiday letter.

On this occasion, when Jasper greeted me at the door, I could tell something was wrong. When I asked to see Marion, he pursed his lips and hesitated ominously, before answering, 'Well, I'll have to consult with Dr Mills, but I won't promise anything. Wait here.' He left before I could ask why the doctor was there. Shortly afterwards, Walter Beck appeared at the door, looking stern. 'Elliot, lad, come in. I'd like a word, if you would.' I followed him to a sitting room, where we took a chair each, and I asked, 'What's wrong with Marion?'.

'Look, Elliot,' Walter said, leaning in towards me, 'I honestly don't know, but I've persuaded Mills that you should go in to see her. Blast it, but you're probably the best person for her right now. She only ever sees Jasper, the doctor, and my scruffy mug.'

But how long has she been sick?' I was alarmed; it sounded like she'd been ill for a while.

'She's been like this for about a week,' Walter answered. 'After we found out about the nightmares – and I'd like to thank you for wringing that information out of her, lad – Mills prescribed a sleeping draught. Just for a few nights, of course. It seemed to work, and she stopped having them, but she got very anxious. Almost thought it was an improvement, at first. She was running everywhere with Bob, getting everything done that she'd fallen behind in, interested in training again. Then, a week ago,' he sighed. 'brace yourself, Elliot, this isn't good. A week ago, she was like that day you came. Didn't want to get out of bed, eat, see anyone. In the evening, (it was the day of the rainstorm,) Bob came to me while I was having a nightcap. He threw himself at me, barking and yelping, and I thought he was going to jump out of his skin. It felt ominous, and I went to check on Marion. On the way to her room, I saw her in the garden, walking down to the end. When she saw me, she started off at a run. I caught up to her, and some guards did, but I'm sure she was heading to the railings on the edge of the cliff. Jasper came along then; turned out she'd asked for a glass of milk, and he'd gone to fetch it. I think she was going to jump, Elliot.'

I was shocked. I didn't understand it at all. Marion's words echoed in my ears: 'they make me feel worthless, and like life's not worth living.' I had taken her seriously, but hadn't realised quite how upset she was. 'I just don't know what to say,' I gasped. 'Where is she now?'

'In bed,' Walter replied, 'under guard, in case she tries to hurt herself. She's also managed to cut open her arms. We've taken all weapons away, but she keeps using her nails.'

I was horrified. I wasn't sure that I wanted to see Marion in the condition Walter had described, but I knew that she needed me. I mean, I couldn't _not_ see her, when I knew something was so wrong. 'I'll go see her,' I said quietly, 'but I don't know that I can really help.'

'Just be there, Elliot,' Walte stood, 'You're her best friend. Until we get this sorted out, she needs friends around her.'

'_Can_ you sort it out?' I asked the unaskable. Walter halted at the door, turned, and gave me that piercing gaze of his, 'I don't know, Elliot. There's a possibility she's gone mad. Strictly between us,' and here he looked rather threateningly at me, as if daring me to reveal the secret, 'there is a history of insanity in the family. Usually it's the good kind, that most people call genius. Sparrow had that one. But there are some in the family, and I'm not giving any names here, who are ominous at best.' I didn't know it then, but I later realised that Walter was probably talking about Theresa, who I only learned of many years afterwards. Also, there are reports that the Hero of Oakvale wasn't all that stable.

I followed Walter to her bedchamber, frightened about what I was going to see. Marion was in bed, curled up tightly and buried under the blankets, with Bob at her side. Bob lifted his head when we entered, but seemed happy for me to approach; he whined so sadly as I sat on a chair next to the bed. Dr Mills was there, preparing some medicine or another. I coulden't see Marion's face, so I gently tried to pull away the blankets, crooning, 'Marion, it's Elliot. I'm worried about you. Please tell me what's wrong.' She whimpered, and pulled the blankets more tightly around her. Dr Mills leaned over and whispered in my ear, 'We've got to get her to take her medicine now, and I'd appreciate some help. Usually, I have to get Sir Walter to hold her down, but she might be calmer whith you here.

'OK,' I said.

Dr Mills nodded to Walter, who quickly whipped off the blankets; Bob seemed to know the routine, and jumped off the bed a moment before the blankets flew away. Walter pinned Marion down, and I can honestly say I've never heard her make such awful noises. They weren't really her, I don't think. It was like she was possessed. It was dreadful. She struggled, then she saw me, and started crying. 'Elliot, tell them to let me go,' she sobbed, 'I'm frightened. I'll be good, just stay with me. I don't want to have the nightmares again.' It just pierced my heart.

To make a long story short, she did take the potion quietly, then we curled up on the bed together (with Jasper and the guards nearby, of course). She fell asleep quickly because of the potion, but she didn't cry anymore, or seem as upset as before. I was devastated to see her that way, and I knew that this wasn't good. Queen Sparrow had pioneered a lot in the area of mental illness, and had started research at the Brightwall Academy when she founded it, along with lots of other useful topics. They were still researching it up there, and there was a lot less superstition surrounding mental illness than there had been before, but cures were still hit and miss, and I knew that, if this persisted, I might lose Marion. I decided, that day, to do a bit of research of my own.

**Thanks for reading! Please review is you have any comments or writing advice.**


	6. Reasons and Reminiscence

**Hi everyone, here's a new chapter! (Sorry it's short. Life's been busy, etc. etc.)**

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: STRONG THEMES OF MENTAL ILLNESS, HORROR THEMES, STRONG SUICIDE THEMES. MAY BE MORE CONFRONTING FOR SOME READERS THAN OTHERS.**

CHAPTER 6

REASONS AND REMINISCENCE

_**Marion**_

I want to make something clear. I'm not telling my story to make people feel sorry for me, and I'm not trying to glorify insanity, or what happened to me. Certainly, it all _sounds _lovely, what with Elliot being so gentle and concerned, and all that. But, honestly, I wouldn't wish it on anybody. And it gets worse. Not to mention that most people don't have an Elliot there for them, holding their hand and loving them. Even with Elliot, it was hell. I'm simply relating what happened to me, as being an important part of my relationship with Elliot, and, (in a convoluted way,) Albion's history. You may gain something from it, you may not. This is how it was.

I remember when I decided to end my life. It's difficult to explain, especially to those who have never been so desperate. I'm not condoning it, and I'm relieved that Walter had the presence of mind to stop it becoming public at the time, and actually managed, even with so many servants and guards present. It would have followed me around forever; people often won't let you forget that you were selfish, and, (to them), cowardly, if they know things like that about you. In truth, I wasn't myself. I never quite knew what happened to me when I dreamed, but having subsequently battled the Crawler, (which I discovered to be the origin of my nightmares,) I don't know how I coped with the almost constant psychological torture. You know, I'm sure, what the creature says, and how it tries to manipulate its prey, and destroy people through emotional torment. I fought it twice, (in actual, physical combat). The first time, I was traumatised beyond any point I had experienced before, yet unlike previously, I was stronger, and able to handle it. The second time, I lost Walter, who was as a second father to me. And this is the harsh thing: All that suffering, and I saved Albion, but the Crawler's still out there, somewhere in the netherworld, waiting for the Bloodline to weaken once again. It must never become so weak: the entire reason that the creature targeted me and Logan was because it sensed that, beyond the fiend's twisted expectations, the Bloodline was not weakening, but becoming stronger than ever.

Mental illness is something like the Crawler, if you'll forgive the insidious comparison. You may think you've conquered it, destroyed it; yet it's still there, waiting in some dark recess, to emerge when you're at your weakest. Even when you're strong, it can attack. I still live with my demons. Nonetheless, I'm happy I didn't manage to plunge over the balustrade and onto the rocks below that day, long ago, but I often wonder about those who survive, and wish they had not survived: I feel great sorrow for them. Everybody deserves to feel happy, and be able to manage their own lives. I hope this can be achieved one day.

Now, readers, we shall return to the tale of a lost Princess and her gentle, brave beloved.

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	7. To Be or Not to Be

**Hi there. I hope you enjoy this chapter, which is longer than the last one.**

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: DEPICTION OF MENTAL ILLNESS**

CHAPTER 7

TO BE OR NOT TO BE … FED UP WITH A CERTAIN KING

_**Elliot**_

By the time Marion got worse, Logan was back from Aurora. He wasn't happy. An expert in diseases of the mind came to stay at the castle by Logan's order. Not that he had much to do elsewhere: Logan had commanded that the Brightwall Academy close down. He also doubled taxes on all citizens, and seized the Mistpeak forests for timber. The latter more or less began a blood feud between Logan and the Mistpeak Dweller clan's leader, Sabine. We were all baffled.

Walter said, 'I'd have thought that he could be a bit more concerned. She _is _his sister.'

Jasper said, 'Hmmm.'

I said, 'His Majesty's changed.'

Albion's citizens said various things. Everybody was angry about taxes, from the nobility who didn't want to surrender their 'hard earned' gold, to those who were so poor that they had but one coin once the taxes had been collected. The gypsies were also uncomfortable, since nobody knew if Logan would decide to seize more land to destroy for money. Pretty much everyone who wanted an education or to do academic research was appalled about the Brightwall Academy. I was, too, since I'd planned on going there the following year.

That was a hard time. As well as my very best friend being trapped in some sort of nightmare all the time, I wasn't allowed to see her much anymore: Logan's orders. So, I spent a lot of time working to help the people most affected by the taxes, and taking trips to Mistpeak with Dad to replant the trees Logan was cutting down. Not to mention that Mum got really ill. Not like Marion, but she had a growth inside her, and there wasn't much to be done about it at the time. It was only later on that physicians worked out how to remove these awful things.

Marion's collapse just before Logan returned was frightening. She'd been the same as before: depressed, tired, withdrawn, and disinterested in just about everything. She seemed to like me being there, though. According to Jasper, she rarely spoke unless I was there. Walter had been in a few times, when he realised how bad this was, but Marion was reluctant to talk to him. We were on a bench in the garden sunlight, and Bob was snoring gently at her feet. (That is to say, he sounded more like a hobbe with a cold than his usual troll with pneumonia.) I said, 'Mum and Dad and I are going to Oakfield in two days. Mum hasn't been feeling too well, and Doctor Mills thought the sea air might make her stronger.' Marion was silent for a minute or so, and I thought maybe she was lost in thought, but when she spoke, she was venomous. 'Why do you want to go? Your mother has your father. I have nobody here for me if you go.' I was shocked. Surely this wasn't kind, patient, understanding Marion talking? She knew that my Mum could die any day, and we wanted to be together as a family. I had to take a moment to collect myself, and that was all the delay she needed before she stood up, positively screaming at me: 'All of you are so selfish! How can you abandon me, too! Dad left me, Mum left me, Walter's too busy, Logan doesn't love me anymore, Bob's just a dog, and now you don't want me! Go then! Don't come back!' She ran to her room, sobbing, and I was left to deal with the crowd of gossiping onlookers. Bob got up, sighed, looked at me as if to say, 'Now I have to sort her out. Thanks a bunch!' and trotted after Marion.

I was very angry with Marion after that, and quite relieved that I didn't have to see her for a week or two. The trip to Oakfield was bittersweet; Mum was a bit better, and we had a good time, but we knew it might be our last holiday together. When we got back, I didn't go to the castle immediately, since I was still hurt, and thought that Marion may still be angry. Then one evening, our butler, Wooster, hurriedly escorted Walter in.

'Elliot,' Walter said urgently, 'I think you need to put your quarrel with Marion behind you and come with me.'

'Sir Beck,' Mum said, rising from the dinner table, 'We're honoured that you esteem our son's influence so highly, but he's only a young man, not a doctor. We also have needs as a family, and I'm sure that you and your medical staff can keep the situation under control.' I noticed the sympathy in Walter's eyes when he said, 'I understand, Ma'am, and I'm sorry that I'm taking your son from you when you need him so much, but right now, Her Highness needs a friend, not servants. She needs to know that someone hasn't abandoned her. It's up to the lad, however.' Turning to me, 'I hope you know that, Elliot. I'm no king, and I'm not ordering you to do it.'

I went with Walter, and convinced my parents I was doing the right thing. What I found when we arrived was that Marion's nightmares were not simply nightmares anymore, but hallucinations. Explaining them is an exercise in futility, since I only heard Marion's garbled accounts, and saw her distress and fear when she was in the grips of a fit. I never realised until later why I was so good for her, but she was somehow less scared when I was there. It only lasted two days, though.

On my second visit, when Marion was seeing giant scorpions crawling across the bed, and felt their stings on her legs and arms, the door opened to admit Logan, who'd returned early from his diplomatic mission.

I know people say Logan didn't care enough for her, but when he walked in that door, I'd swear anything that that man, King of Albion, looked more frightened than I'd ever seen him look. It only lasted a second, though. He strode in, followed by a frazzled Walter, and commanded of Jasper, 'What is the boy doing here?'

'Greetings, Your Majesty. Was the journey a fortuitous one?'

'I demand to know why the boy's here!' Logan snapped.

'We've found that Her Highnesses' fits are less violent in his presence, Your Majesty.' Jasper continued dusting the mantle.

'You, Elliot,' Logan turned on me, 'I have no need for a commoner to distort my sister's mind even more. Leave. I will inform you when you may appropriately visit her. She needs a specialised physician. Mills,' adressing the doctor,' you shall be dismissed once the replacement arrives.'

And so, I was unceremoniously booted out. Everyone commented on the fact that nothing was ever said about the voyage to Aurora. I still remember Marion screaming about the scorpions as the door closed behind me. Logan more or less told her to shut up.

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	8. The Monster Within

**Hi there. Just a quick note: This chapter contains direct quotes from _Fable II _and _Fable_ _III_, which I take no credit for inventing.**

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: DEPICTION OF MENTAL ILLNESS, HEAVY HORROR THEMES, MEDICAL THEMES, SOME VIOLENCE**

CHAPTER 8

THE MONSTER WITHIN

_**Logan**_

Marion is in a stupor. I assumed that fool Barry would be able to help, but what he said was a healing sleep, void of nightmares at last, may be permanent. Tomorrow, young Elliot's coming. I have nothing against the boy, really, but I don't wish for my family problems to become public property, and I don't know how discreet he truly is. Walter assures me he will not speak of what he witnesses. I hope he proves himself worthy of Walter's trust. Regardless, I doubt he can help. My sister is slipping away. So soon after Aurora … Is there a connection? I wish she would speak. I don't know what to do. A hero would. I am no hero.

_**Marion**_

I'm standing in a vast cave. A large platform of shimmering, green – blue light blocks the stairs to the lower level. An oratorical voice: 'It speaks to us still. Darkness incarnate. We know now we can never escape it.' Screams that chill my blood; victims taken to slaughter. Occult symbols swim before my eyes. The voice again: 'Luminous spirits of the sands, impart daybreak and gleam under a quiet moon.' I hear Walter's voice repeat the words. I hear more chants, more words, but I do not catch their meaning. These invocations call up an abomination of shadow. I cannot escape it; it surrounds me, consumes me, and destroys my humanity and identity …

'_Your Majesty, it's the only way to get food and fluids into her …'_

…The spell is broken, and I am free to drift in the darkness. The memory of pain is shattered, and only the dread remains.

_**Elliot**_

Doctor Barry is trying to explain to Logan that Marion can't feed herself. She can't do anything anymore. She doesn't talk or move, and she doesn't seem to notice anybody or anything. You can tell if she's asleep or awake, but that's it. She doesn't even notice if Doctor Barry sticks pins into her or tests her reflexes. I don't know what to think. It's like Marionn's already dead, and she won't come back. It breaks my heart. I just hope her mind's somewhere nice, if she has to be broken. Maybe she's back in her childhood, at Serenity Farm, and Her Majesty's still alive, and also the Prince Consort, Bob. Speaking of which, I'm sure that Bob the dog isn't eating as much. Poor thing; he doesn't know what's happening.

Doctor Barry feeds Marion soft food and water, and sees to her treatment as best he can. Marion's lady in waiting has to bathe her now. I still talk to Marion when I'm allowed to come, but she doesn't seem to know. I hope she can still hear me. I hope she understands me if she _does_ hear me. She just sits in her chair or lies abed, looking vacant and breathing evenly, rigidly poised, except in sleep; then, she is relaxed, and her eyes are shut.

I am allowed to visit on the first day that she is like this, then denied entrance for a week. At home, I am still anxious about her, but also about Mother, who is also confined to bed. A week later, I visit again. She is the same. I tell her that Bob is well, and that I wish she was up to coming outside to see the flowers blooming in the gardens.

_**Marion**_

I am Mum. I am fighting a Banshee in Wraithmarsh. It is a foul creature. I feel chilled and shaken, yet I fight on.

'_She's feverish today. A cool cloth please, nurse.'_

The fiend's children crowd around me, slicing with needle sharp swords at my legs.

'_You see, your majesty, no response to needle pricks …'_

I hear the chatter of voices. I think I hear a young man. _'The lilies of the valley are in bloom, Marion. Your favourite. When I come next time, I'll get some from the garden and put them in a vase for you.'_ But then the voice is that of a banshee child: 'You are worthless. Let me take your life now and put you to rest.' I try to resist, but somehow, I know the creature is right about me. Still, I fight on. 'The people you see, all the people you talk to, they are not real. You are alone in this universe; terribly alone.' Is it telling the truth? Does it matter if it is? Even if it lies, I _am_ alone, ultimately. I still fight on. 'I will bring you peace.' I want peace so desperately. Yes, I do.

I stand still. 'I accept.' I drop my weapon and close my eyes. 'I am no hero. If I were truly my mother, you could not have taken me.'

As the darkness steals the breathfrom my lungs and squeezes my heart's blood, the sneering voice sniggers, 'Your son hates you. He will get a blade in the night and plunge it through your heart.'

And so I knew why Mum had died …

_**Elliot**_

We were all dreadfully anxious. Marion was stirring fitfully, grabbing at the sheet, and sweating profusely. She was in some distress, but I was so glad to see her moving that I didn't care, even though her eyes were still blank. Doctor Barry sent Jasper to fetch Logan and Walter. When they arrived, she was calming down again, and to say I was concerned would be an understatement. We sat and waited. Marion was still and silent once again. We weren't prepared when she leaped from the bed, sending Bob skidding across the room, and pointed at Logan, shrieking, 'You killed my Mother!'

_**Meanwhile, in Aurora …**_

_**The shadows laughed. 'Good. Not only is she losing herself, but she will sow discord for us without any trouble. The king escaped us, but he is already growing unpopular. We shall see victory soon. Very soon.'**_

_**Another voice murmers from outside the void: 'Do not be certain. Fire melts tin, but steel is heated to transform it into deadly weapons. The man was tin. The child may be steel.'**_

_**The shadow hissed, 'Filth of the light! We do not want you. You have no place here. Only the seeress does, and she, too, will be ours.'**_

'_**We shall see,' the murmer returned.**_

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	9. Sweet Dreams are There for Us

**Hi readers! Enjoy the latest chapter!**

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: MODERATE LANGUAGE, MODERATE VIOLENCE, STRONG THEMES, DEPICTION OF MENTAL ILLNESS, SOME SUGGESTIVE THEMES, INCIDENTAL CRUDE HUMOUR**

CHAPTER 9

SWEET DREAMS ARE THERE FOR US

_**Walter**_

Well, what could I say? _Balls_ wasn't appropriate. Best to remain quiet.

It was extraordinary to me that Marion was suddenly standing there, after having been senseless for days, accusing her brother - her king, no less - of murdering his own Mother. It was _not_ good. Conciousness hadn't brought reason with it, and I was even more concerned about her than before.

Oh, what the hell … BALLS!

I was also concerned for Logan. He'd been worried sick about his little sister. Not that I liked his way of showing it … or _not_ showing it. I was equally fearful about how he was going to react. That wasn't good either. He went paler than usual, and ground his teeth. If looks could kill, Marion wouldn't have lived long. When he spoke, he sounded like he could hardly contain his wrath: 'Drug her. I don't care what state she's in, she WILL NOT defile my honour!'

Doctor Barry spoke up. Brave man. 'You Majesty, I would respectfully suggest that, if she's drugged, she may regress. If she is concious, I can treat her better …'

Marion threw herself at Logan, beating him with her fists. She sounded like a wild beast: 'I hate you! I HATE YOU! Why! Did you want to be king so much? You're not even a hero! I'll KILL you!'

Logan struck her, sending her sprawling onto the floor with a bleeding cheek. 'BARRY, DRUG HER NOW OR YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!'

That dog didn't help. Sunk its teeth into Logan's thigh. It got a muzzle for its trouble.

Logan turned to Elliot, and spoke with forced calm: 'Boy, out, now! And stay away until you're sent for!'

By the time Bob was muzzled and Elliot evicted, I'd managed to hold Marion down while Barry held a medicated cloth over her nose. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she was calm again.

Logan had roast his own chicken, alright.

_**Elliot**_

I didn't know what to think, or do, or say. I just didn't know. Was Marion sicker than ever? Did she know something about Her Majesty's death? Could Logan have killed his mother? It would have explained his behaviour.

I was also seething. I wanted to smash Logan's face in. How could he hit Marion when she was ill? Come to think of it, he must be hiding something. If he were innocent, why get so upset over a sick girl's accusations? It felt really good to think about Bob sinking his teeth into Logan's thigh. It made me smile, but it was a bitter smile. 'I bet he'd be happy if the sedative makes her sleep forever like Doctor Barry's frightened it will,' I thought fiercely, 'then, if he did kill the Queen, the only person who seems to know won't cause him any trouble. He's not even doing a good job of being king anymore. He doesn't even seem to like it that much.'

As I walked home, I thought about the last time I'd seen Marion, when she actually knew who I was. The fight hadn't been my fault, but it was gnawing at me. What if she never recognised me again? I'd never be able to make up with her. It's strange: I'd known I was in love with her for a long time, but I was waiting for her to say something, since she was the princess, and I didn't want to make her feel bad if she didn't like me that way, or if she did but wasn't ready for the next step. Now, I knew for certain that it wasn't just what Mum called 'puppy love'; I would always love her, whether she knew me or not, or struck me, or screamed at me when she was hallucinating, or even if I were the one who had to feed and clean her. Even if she never gave anything back to me, I wanted to be there for her. I know she would have sent me away: She would want me to have a better life than that. Logan had done the sending away bit for her.

I wished so much that I'd told her I loved her, now.

_**Marion**_

I just wanted to kill Logan. I hated him. I wanted him hurting, bleeding, dying … then to die myself. Everything was hopeless. Logan struck me, though, and Walter pinned me down. Logan left the room, and took Elliot with him. Doctor Barry brought a sedative. I didn't want to sleep again; I didn't want the nightmares. I was so frightened. I didn't think I could endure it anymore; why should they punish me so severely for speaking the truth? I was sane, but because I was troublesome, they were going to send me back to the hell in my mind. I was unable to defend myself, and hysterical, but the Doctor had his orders. I tried holding my breath when he clamped the cloth over my mouth and nose, but he knew that trick, and I soon felt my dead spinning and my eyes drooping shut.

'_Poor creature. I wonder at Logan.'_

'_Sir Beck, would there be any possibility … Her accusations are –'_

'_NO! I absolutely doubt it! And don't let anyone hear you saying that.'_

…

I was lying on a bed in a place I didn't recognise. It was a lovely room, like the inside of a hunting lodge. It was snowing outside, but I felt warm and comfortable. I was under soft blankets, and realised, drowsily, that I wasn't wearing anything. I turned to lie on my other side, and realised that Elliot was lying beside me. The blankets had slipped down, and revealed an expanse of bare, firm chest. He opened his eyes and smiled; the warmth of his brown eyes melted my insides. 'Good morning, Marion,' he murmured as he ran his fingers up and down my arm, making it tingle. Then, he snuggled closer and pressed his lips to mine, and I realised that he, too, was naked. This time, I knew it was only a dream, yet it was so very vivid, I was surprised that I did realise. I had felt attracted to Elliot for some time, but had been reluctant to tell him in real life, since he had never seemed to want to be more than my best friend. If I was going to be stuck in a dream, though, a reprieve from the usual horror sounded wonderful.

What I did with my dream Elliot was the most beautiful thing. I never would have dared to do some of the things I did with the real Elliot, but as it was a dream, I was bold, and felt no embarrassment about anything. The pleasure was very intense, and I wished that it would shelter me from the nightmares forever. As I lay still in the afterglow, Elliot crawled up the bed to kiss me deeply …'

…

'_Why the blazes was she making such a racket? Is there something we should know, Jasper?'_

'_Erm, actually, it's not what you think …'_

Darkness swallowed another dream, and, like all the terrors I had endured, my one bright experience disappeared into the shadows, leaving me to face the nightmares again …

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	10. Insidious Intent in Albion

**Hi, and happy 2013 to all readers!**

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise from the _Fable _series belongs to me. I mention characters and events based both on _Fable III_, and, in this chapter, the _Traitors' Keep _DLC. I also make a reference, with no offense intended, (should offence be taken), to an enthusiastic game designer._  
_**

**CHAPTER WARNINGS: MODERATE SUGGESTIVE THEMES, MENTAL ILLNESS THEMES**

CHAPTER 10

INSIDIOUS INTENT IN ALBION

_**Elliot**_

Mum was in a lot of pain when she died. If Dad and I didn't miss her so much, I would have been happy that she'd gone on to better things. I've always been glad we had that extra time together before she went.

Things were pretty morbid at my home, with Dad being so depressed. I tried to cheer him up, but I wasn't cheerful myself, so success was limited. I missed Marion, too. I wondered if she was going to get better. At that time, I wouldn't have put it past Logan to have her poisoned or something like that: a rash of people had been executed for supposed sedition and treason. There was a lot of controversy, since there was actually solid proof that the charges were accurate, but most people sympathised with the criminals, even though they had committed the crimes. Logan had turned into a complete tyrant.

Taxes went up even more, quickly transforming Bowerstone's Old Quarter into a slum. Town guards disappeared on strange campaigns, leaving crime to run riot so badly that it probably hadn't been that way since Her Majesty's childhood. Money promised by the Crown to public causes was never granted. Financial aid for poor, injured, and abused people disappeared, (including the aid fund for prostitutes who wanted to stop walking the streets, leading to a rash of them being murdered, dying of starvation, or having to continue when they wanted to stop.) The orphanages started shutting down, unable to find other sources of funding. Criminals were bribing and extorting at every turn. The economy started suffering. None of this happened overnight, of course, but it did happen within four months. But the worst thing was when Reaver turned up from the blue.

I do mean Reaver, the Hero of Skill, and lifelong enemy of Her Majesty. He had, so people said, fled when Her Majesty defeated Lucien, and now, his enemy removed, had returned. Everyone expected him to return to Bloodstone and transform it back into its original vileness, but instead, he went to Logan, who, completely disregarding his mother's honour, struck a completely unacceptable deal with Reaver: Our industrial sector, which had always been productive, but ethical, suddenly implemented slave labour and child labour. Not only that, but many of the inventions were unnecessary, and there for the purpose of making revenue. The pollution also increased enormously, and spewed out into Bowerstone River, and then to the sea, like a giant, toxic ink pot had been tipped over. What, you may asked, happened to Professor Ernest Faraday of Faraday Industries, who was the head man of the industry at the time? Well, he'd also disappeared just before Reaver conveniently arrived. Nobody knew how he'd upset Logan, but he'd been locked away in Ravenscar Keep, Albions most secure and brutal prison. Well, but the people of Albion were angry. Not to mention Dad and myself.

Life fell into a pattern during those four months, and the two following months as well. For half the week, I stayed at the mansion with Dad, trying to keep him company and carry on with life. Then, I'd go to the castle and see if Logan had changed his mind about letting me visit Marion. He never did, so Jasper or Walter let me know how she was doing – which was always very badly – and I'd leave to do whatever I was going to do for the rest of the week. It generally involved helping in soup kitchens, or getting tired prostitutes off the streets, or possibly building huts for the homeless. The other lads and ladies who were on the job were nice, decent people, from many walks of life. Some were wealthy, like me, others middle class, and some were poor, but wanted to help others who were slightly poorer. After a while, problems got so bad that I had to choose just one area to help with exclusively. I decided that the best thing would be to get the child labourers in Bowerstone Industrial into good homes. So, for the second half of every week, I lived in Bowerstone Industrial, staying in a ramshackle room at the _Riveter's Rest _Inn. At first, I tried getting the children into the single remaining orphanage in Bowerstone, but not all of them were orphans, and, after a while, the pleasant secondary manager had to tell me, with regret, that they couldn't afford to keep my charges any more. After that, I got together with a couple of other people to try to keep the child labourers fed and sheltered, but we had limited success. After a gruelling, heart wrenching period in the slums, I would return to the mansion, stopping by the castle again on the way.

I'm not perfect, and sometimes, I neglected to see how Marion was doing. It wasn't just discouragement, either: sometimes, I got sick of it, and felt that it might be better if I just forgot about her and got on with my life. After all, I reasoned, if she ever regained consciousness, she might have been on the same intellectual level as a hobbe. Did I _really_ want to cope with that? But I always went back, and I always regained hope. I also wasn't miserable _all _the time, which I felt guilty about for ages, until I realised that, actually, it's human nature to bounce back, no matter how bad things are. I couldn't help but enjoy a good steak when I returned to the mansion after several days roughing it in Bowerstone Industrial. I did sleep soundly more often than not. I still enjoyed a good book or game of chess, and kept up my physical regime. Even though Marion wasn't there to share it, I still liked watching the sun rise and set over the castle rooftops, (from afar, of course). I was happiest, though, when I saw the children in the streets enjoying a good meal, or clutching a stuffed rabbit I'd bought from a shopkeeper. I guess that makes me at least a bit more virtuous.

Then, after six months, I received a message from the castle. It read;

'_I, His Majesty King Logan of Albion, revoke the ban from castle grounds on one Master Elliot Molyneux. I also inform Master Molyneux that Her Highness Princess Marion of Albion is conscious and anxious to see Master Molyneux._

It was sealed with the royal crest. Obviously, I wasted no time in getting to the castle.

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